


Let down your heart

by laurenshappenstobemyhusband



Series: Haikyuu!! One Shots [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But mostly fluff, Canon, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tangled AU, akaashi is a magical disney princess now, and akaashi is also an angel, bokuto is an angel, they are both too pure to exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenshappenstobemyhusband/pseuds/laurenshappenstobemyhusband
Summary: "Hello, is anyone up there?" The guy is staring right up at him, a hand pressed to the sword at his side.Akaashi doesn't know what to say, but finally he responds, "Yes, yes there is.""I'm coming up. Hang tight."And that is only the beginning.ORAkaashi is a prince trapped in a tower. Bokuto is a knight lost in the woods. Can it be any more obvious?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Haikyuu!! One Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555102
Comments: 12
Kudos: 381





	Let down your heart

**Author's Note:**

> "AKAASHI AKAASHI LET DOWN YOUR HAIR"
> 
> "What the hell Bokuto-san"
> 
> But yeah I'm having too much fun with this

Akaashi is a lonely prince stuck in a tall stone tower, destined to rot away there forever.

At least, that's what the witch who trapped him there always tells him. Truthfully, Akaashi has no idea if his family is royalty, or if he even has one. Hell, the witch herself could be his mother (although he really hopes not, that would be traumatizing all on its own). Allegedly, he was kidnapped at the age of nine, but he doesn't remember any of that, so it doesn't make a difference to him. The witch says that she put a memory spell on him, but it could just as easily be repression. Akaashi's psychology books talk a lot about that.

The "destined to rot there forever" part is probably also pretty accurate, thanks to a bit of magic on the witch's part. Akaashi tries not to think about it too much, but the thought does come to him every so often. He's most probably going to die in the same place he lived all his life. The adventurers he reads about in his books are turning in their graves.

Is he lonely, though? He has the witch come by once a week, always with patients, so he's not lacking in company. It's not good company, but he's read enough about the thrills of solitary confinement to know that it could be much worse. 

Every character in his books has a sidekick, or at least a pet to accompany them on their missions. Akaashi has his ball, a notebook, a pen, and whatever books he has that week, so altogether they probably add up to a caterpillar sidekick. He's never seen one before, but he's pretty sure he knows what they look like based on picture books.

Right on time, the witch appears in the middle of the room, a person on each arm. They look dazed, which is understandable, since there's no telling how far they were teleported to get here. The witch is fine, of course, and she impatiently drags them over to where Akaashi is sitting on his mattress. 

"Do your thing, boy," she says, shoving them at him. She doesn't have to be gentle with them, since they won't remember anything that happened from the time they got here all the way until they're sent back. Besides, whatever injuries they sustain, Akaashi will fix in an instant.

If he wasn't born with the ability to heal with a single touch, Akaashi definitely wouldn't be stuck here. That thought plagues him every goddamned day.

He doesn't know what afflicts them, only that it must be bad for them to pay the steep price that the witch charges. She's well known around town (according to her), intriguing enough to get a steady stream of customers, and powerful enough to keep them from knowing too much. She used to bring them in every day, but eventually Akaashi threatened to stop eating if he didn't get time to himself. He can't die from just anything - his body would heal itself - but starvation could definitely do it.

Of course, he doesn't really want to die. That's why he heals these random people every week, so he can get paid in enough food to last him for the rest of it. It's not tiring for him, not like it is for the witch when she does magic, and he knows he's helping people, so there's really no reason that he should resist.

And yet each time he does it for her, it feels like he's giving her another piece of his soul. Another shackle keeping him here forever.

"There, that's it," she's now saying, leading the two strangers away. "I'll take the rest of my fee now, unless you want your foot to rot back again." She's bluffing; Akaashi doesn't have the power to undo his healing, but the men rush to take out their payment anyway.

"Thank you," they both say to him, and he nods in their direction. When he's really feeling up to it, he smiles sometimes at the people who won't remember it in an hour's time. Lately, it's been happening less and less.

The witch snaps her fingers, and a sack of food appears at Akaashi's feet. She also takes the list of books Akaashi requested, and the bag containing the books he already read. A new bag will appear tomorrow, as timely as it always does.

"See you next week," she calls, and all three are gone with an audible snap. The witch can't do much besides teleportation, but damn if she isn't good at it.

He rifles through the bag, counting apples and bags of bread in his head. She always packs the same amount, but he checks it through every week all the same. She's slime incarnate, with no morals to keep her from slowly starving him just for the fun of it. Plus, taking inventory breaks the monotony for a few minutes.

He writes down the numbers in his notebook, then picks up his ball. It's the size of his head, white and round. He got it for his thirteenth birthday, right around the time he was considering just giving up on it all. It didn't cure everything, not like the witch most likely intended, but it helped. 

He throws it against the wall a couple of times, catching it before it can roll too far. He only dropped it out of his window twice, once by mistake, once on purpose, and the witch warned him each time that she could take it away just as easily as she had given it to him. Like the ball was a gift from god or something. Either way, he's careful not to throw it too hard when he played One Person Catch. 

When his arms tire out, he rolls it to the corner of his small room, changing to his sleep clothes. He isn't tired, not in the slightest, and the straw from his mattress pokes at his back, but he stays in his bed anyway, eyes firmly shut. He wishes he could magic himself to sleep, but he knows if he could, he would never choose to wake up. 

***

Most mornings, Akaashi wakes up at the crack on dawn, the sun shining directly into his eyes. On Monday mornings, the day after he works, he usually sleeps in for longer, since it takes energy out of him to heal people. 

On this particular morning, he wakes up especially late, probably early afternoon. He doesn't know what came over him. But instead of the birds calling him awake, it's a voice. A human voice.

"Hello? Anyone around?"

Akaashi's breath catches in his throat, and he rolls off of his mattress, scrambling to his feet. Even as he reminds himself that whoever this guy is - definitely a guy, the voice is too deep to be a girl - can't save him, he still rushes to the window fast enough to bump his head in the process. He heals it before he can feel the pain, then turns his attention to the scene outside.

Just as he had thought - hoped, dreamed, never imagined could happen - there is a guy standing at the base of his tower. From what Akaashi can see, he has black and white hair, spiked upwards, and he's leading a horse by the saddle. Akaashi doesn't know what to focus on, the guy or the horse (both are new to him), but ultimately decides the guy is more important. 

"Hey!" he tries to call, before realizing that his voice is barely audible. Now that he thinks about it, he can't remember the last time he spoke. His job doesn't require any talking, and it's not like he has many people to talk to. His voice is weak, out of practice, just like his social skills. Even if he can get this guy's attention, he has no clue what he'll say. Still, he can't miss his only opportunity for human interaction in seventeen years.

Thinking as fast as he can, Akaashi grabs his ball, his prized possession, and chucks it at the guy before he can go too far. His aim is perfect, as he knew it would be, and it strikes him on the head, ricocheting off like a bullet to a steel wall. The guy spins around, making a full 360.

"What the..." Akaashi hears him say as he sees the ball, picking it up and spinning it in his hands. "Who the hell threw a volleyball at me?"

Akaashi is nothing but patient as the guy finally turns towards the tower, looking straight up at him unintentionally. Immediately, he jumps back, almost dropping the ball in the process.

"Uh, who are you?" he calls, and Akaashi tries to think of what to say, how to best explain his situation in as few words as possible. After multiple attempts of communication, he realizes the guy can't hear him anyway, and beckons him over with both hands. 

"Alright..." he says, stepping closer to the tower. "This is weird, but do you have a ladder or something?" 

A ladder? Akaashi barely has space to keep all of his stuff, much less a ladder. He shakes his head, making a big X with his arms. 

"Hmph. Guess I'll have to do this the hard way." The boy takes out a spool of rope, and for a moment Akaashi thinks he's going to toss one end of it to him and use it to climb. But no, that would be too rational.

Instead, he uses it to tie the horse to a tree, and then turns back to the tower, stretching his legs. Before Akaashi can even process, he's running at the tower full speed, latching onto the side. His arms are straining, he's definitely going to slip, but somehow he's climbing the side of the tower, gripping the space between the bricks.

Akaashi backs up as he gets further up, giving him space to scramble through the window. Then there's a guy - a really fit guy, probably double his size - laying on his floor and panting, and he wonders how he ever got in this situation.

"Would you like some water?" he asks, since it seems like a safe thing to ask. The guy flips over to face him, surprised. 

"You can talk?" he asks, and Akaashi resists the urge to say, _Obviously._

Instead, he says, "Not loudly. I'm rather out of practice." He reaches into his sack and retrieves a bottle of water. The guy takes it from him with a grateful smile and chugs the whole thing. Akaashi tries to think of how long that water would last him. Probably a day, if he would be careful.

When the bottle's empty, the guy pushes himself to a sitting position, holding out a hand.

"My name's Bokuto Koutarou," he says, and Akaashi takes the hand he's offering. It's warm, and completely encompasses his own. It isn't that he's undersized - although he wouldn't be surprised - but rather that this guy is larger than life.

"I'm Akaashi Keiji. It's nice to meet you." And it is. It's nice to talk to someone who doesn't tolerate him solely for his abilities. Bokuto's energy is infectious, and it gives Akaashi more adrenaline than he's had in months.

"Well Akaashi, now that introductions are over, how the hell did you get stuck up here?" Bokuto wastes no time in getting to the point, which is understandable, but it still makes Akaashi pause. He's fully at a loss for words, which is unfortunate, since he just got the ability to speak moments before and all.

Finally, he settles for a simplified version of the truth. "I was kidnapped as a kid by a witch, so now I'm stuck up here. It's not so bad, I have my stuff." He gestures to his meager personal items scattered behind him. Bokuto's eyes widen, and he looks like he's... pouting?

"That's awful!" he exclaims, louder than Akaashi thought was possible. "It's gotta be so boring to be cooped up in here all day every day. How long have you been here?"

"I'm seventeen, I'm pretty sure, so... eight years?"

"I'm eighteen, so that's basically the same. Man, I would just launch myself out the window if it were me." Bokuto slaps a hand over his mouth, looking like he regrets the words, but Akaashi isn't offended or anything. Heaven knows he's had the same thought process multiple times over.

"You aren't wrong. Watch this," he says, walking back towards the window. Bokuto watches on, mystified. His expression turns back to horrified, however, when Akaashi swings a leg over the edge. 

"Hey, don't do that, dude!" he shouts, springing to his feet, but by the time he reaches the window, Akaashi's already plummeting. He wishes he could reassure Bokuto in some way, but by the time the thought passes his mind, he's already back in the tower. 

Bokuto's still staring out the window, so it takes a moment for him to realize Akaashi's back in the room with him.

"What the-" He looks at Akaashi, then back out the window, then back at Akaashi. "How the hell did you do that? Are you also a witch?"

"No," Akaashi replies, only half lying. "That's part of my curse. If I try to jump or scale the building down, I just get teleported right back up. I've tried many times, believe me."

"Does that mean if I jump-"

Akaashi grabs his arm before he can do anything rash. "Don't be ridiculous. You would break your head open." 

Bokuto considers this, then sits down on the mattress, pensive. Akaashi joins him after a bit.

"So you're really stuck here forever?" he asks, and Akaashi winces. It sounds so much worse when said out loud. So much more real. 

"I suppose so. Unless the witch decides to free me, of course." Which she won't, for obvious reasons that Bokuto isn't aware of. But for some reason, Akaashi feels like comforting him. It's a weird phenomena. Maybe he'll find something about it in a psychology book. He'll have to request one next week.

"That's awful," Bokuto says again. "Just you and the mattress and a notebook and some food-"

"I also have a ball, but I believe you left that on the ground."

Bokuto smacks a hand to his face. "God, I'm so sorry. I'll get it for you now, just give me a second."

"Wait." Akaashi grabs his arm for the second time in five minutes. When did he become so clingy? Right, the years and years of not having any human contact. Bokuto's arm was nice and solid, further evidence that he was real and this wasn't all a fever dream. "You'll tire yourself out. Once you're ready to leave, you can toss it up to me. You're definitely strong enough to do it."

Bokuto goes pink, and it's only then that Akaashi realizes he's still holding onto his arm. He drops it like a hot coal, fighting the urge to sit on his own hand. Bad hand. We don't grab the first guy to come see you in seventeen years. 

"Sure thing," he says quickly, starting to pace the room. He looks out at the sky, scowling. "I probably have to get back to the castle soon anyway, though. I was supposed to be training this horse to follow orders, but I got kinda lost on the way. Suga says I have the navigational skills of a blind mouse."

He smiles so easily, like he's been doing it all his life, and Akaashi tries to mimic it. Nope, definitely still a grimace. He gives up on it and focuses on Bokuto's words. 

"Ah, right, you should probably go. Don't want to be late," he sighs, annoyed at himself that he didn't realize sooner. What, did he think this guy would move in with him and just keep him company for eternity? He shouldn't have gotten attached, he shouldn't have thrown his ball, he shouldn't have-

"I'll be back tomorrow," Bokuto says, and Akaashi studies the knight's face. It's just as open and honest as it had been the whole time he was there. "I have a break every afternoon, and usually I just spend it hanging out with Kuroo - he's my best friend - but ever since he started dating Kenma - also my friend - they've both been using it for date time, whatever that means. So yeah, I'll definitely ride over now that I know the way."

Akaashi had a difficult time following the whole story (Kuroo? Kenma? Friend?) but he got the overall message. _He's coming back. Your life is officially in a new chapter of existence._

"Um, thank you," he gets out, and this time he manages a real smile. Judging by Bokuto's reaction, it isn't half bad, either. "Do you need any help getting down from here? It's definitely more difficult to go down than to go up."

"Nah, I got it, but thanks," Bokuto responds, taking a sword out of his pocket. Akaashi marvels at its beauty, then at its utility. If he had a sword like that, he could...

No, he couldn't kill the witch. She'd teleport behind him, stab him, then force him to heal himself in time for the customers to arrive. It's a pipe dream, but it's been a while since Akaashi dreamed of escaping. The Bokuto effect in action, for sure.

"...to scale down the side," Bokuto finished saying, and it was only then that Akaashi realized that he had been talking that whole time. He nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

"Good luck, Bokuto-san," he responds, and Bokuto preens at the honorific. 

"You're too much, Akaashi," he chuckles, and then he's over the side, blade digging into the cracks between bricks. It slows his descent for sure, although Akaashi has to cover his ears with his hands to block out the awful screeching it causes. If he never hears that noise again, it will be too soon. But he would hear it a thousand times over if it brought Bokuto - or anyone really, he wasn't picky - back to the tower. 

He leans his head out the window as Bokuto retrieves his ball, stretching his throwing arm. Then it's coming right towards Akaashi, and he only has a second to duck before it whizzes over his head, hitting the wall behind him. He kicks it to the side before it can bounce out again.

"Nice throw!" he calls, and he's pleased to discover that he's louder than before, even if he probably still can't be heard. 

"See you tomorrow, Akaashi," he shouts, and Akaashi doesn't leave the window until Bokuto's completely concealed by the trees. Only then does he allow himself to lay down on his bed, heart beating erratically. He has twenty four hours to process what just happened. He isn't sure if it will be enough.

***

Akaashi spends the rest of the day alternating between writing in his notebook and staring at the ceiling. He used to be afraid of the witch reading what he wrote, but she reassured him - or rather, rudely reminded him - that she doesn't care what he does during the week, as long as he can still make her money. Plus, it's not like there's anything interesting in it.

_Monday: ate half a loaf of bread. Read two new books._

_Thursday: saw a bird flying around. It was blue and black._

He doesn't know what the date is, only what day of the week, based on when the witch stopped by last. He probably wouldn't know that either if he didn't overhear one of the customers mentioning Sunday night as he healed them. He stored it in the back of his brain, wrote it down ten times in his notebook just in case. _The witch comes by on Sunday nights. The witch comes by on Sunday nights._

Maybe he can ask Bokuto what month it is. It's nice outside, and the witch took back the blanket, so it's probably springtime. He misses the colors of autumn, but it's a lot better than winter. Cold days, freezing nights, and the trees look like skeletons without their leaves. 

Akaashi's thought never drift far from Bokuto. He starts a new journal entry, dated Monday, and tries to recount every second of the day to put into words. Even as he's writing it, it seems far fetched.

His throat hurts, too; he didn't realize how much he had talked before, and it feels raw whenever he inhales. He drinks some water - from a new bottle, mind you - and hopes he'll be better by tomorrow. Still, he doesn't regret a second of it. It's too easy to forget he's a person sometimes and not just a portable healing spell.

He spends a while at night staring out the window, trying to see past the thick forest that surrounds him. Maybe get a glimpse of the castle that Bokuto was talking about. But no, there are trees upon trees upon trees obscuring his vision, and not a traveler in sight. 

He sleeps with his ball cradled to his chest that night. It's been a while since he had a comfort object, and it's probably an immature move, but he doesn't let go all night.

Akaashi wakes up earlier the next day, giving him enough time to bathe and neaten up the place. He's due for a haircut - the witch does it herself, saying it's bad for business if he looks a beggar - but he does his best to brush it with his fingers. He gives up after a minute. Damn curly hair, always holding him back.

He also puts on a clean shirt, pushing the other to the corner to be washed later. He can't tell if he smells, but it can't hurt to have new clothes.

The rest of the room is easier to organize. His books stacked in one corner, his food organized in another. He even tries to make his mattress more presentable, but he only succeeds in pulling out more straw. He tosses it out the window, wiping his hands on his pants.

Just as he's about to try tackling his hair again, he hears a shout from below.

"Akaaaaaaaaaaaashi, are you awake? I brought caaaaaards."

Akaashi abandoned his hair struggle in favor of running to the window, almost tripping in the process. There he is, just as bright and cheerful as the day before. Bokuto waves when he sees him, and Akaashi waves back, feeling awkward but also oddly alive. He steps to the side while Bokuto climbs up, waiting for him to get over the ledge.

"Man, this is better exercise than I do in knight training," he pants, and Akaashi goes to get him another water bottle. At this rate, he'll have to start rationing to get through the week.

"You're a knight?"

"Well, not yet, but I'm gonna be one." Bokuto's eyes flash when he talks about his dreams. It's admirable, even if it does make Akaashi's stomach twist with envy. "I've been training for the past three years. That's why they let me have the horse and everything."

"It sounds nice. I've never seen another horse, but this one looks nice." It seems Akaashi's vocabulary is only limited to the word "nice," but Bokuto doesn't call him out on it. Instead, he reaches into his pack, pulling out a small book.

"I didn't want to tell anyone about the tower, just in case it would get you in trouble or something, but I started doing research on teleportation spells, and I found something that might be able to-"

"That's very kind of you, Bokuto-san," Akaashi says, cutting him off. He can't afford to get his hopes up. "I'm really grateful you took the time to look into it. But her spells are too powerful. We can't undo them without years of training."

His shoulders slump. "And you don't know any non-evil witches?"

"Bokuto-san, you're the second person I've ever met. I don't know anybody."

Bokuto puts a hand on his back, not saying a word, and Akaashi wilts a little under his touch. Sympathy is something new for him, and he isn't sure how he feels about it. It makes him feel exposed, for sure.

The mood completely ruined, Akaashi says, "You mentioned something about cards?"

Bokuto brightens, if only a little, and he pulls a deck of cards out of his pocket. "I don't suppose you know any card games, do you?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Alright then. Lemme teach you how to play spit."

Akaashi loses basically every game they play, but it's the most fun he's had in months. When they get sick of spit, they move on to jacks and sevens, gin, and go fish. Bokuto knows a lot of card games from his friends, and whenever he forgets the rules for one of them, he improvises. 

"This one's a one person game," Bokuto explains as he sets up the cards for a new one. "It's called Solitaire."

"Very fitting. Why are you teaching me a game that only one person can play, though?" Akaashi asks, scribbling down the instructions on a blank sheet of paper. He doesn't want to forget a single move.

"Well, I thought about it, and I'm only able to come for like an hour a day," he explains, scratching the back of his neck. "I figured it would be nice if you had something else to do when I'm not here. You can keep the cards, too. I have another deck back at the castle."

Akaashi is dumbfounded. "You got these... for me?" he asks slowly, meeting Bokuto's amber eyes. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," Bokuto said quickly, his face reddening. "Really, they're like a dollar a deck."

"Still, I appreciate it. Truly." Akaashi's sure his face is glowing, and he looks at the cards in front of him with a new reverence. These are _his_ cards now, and also a gift from Bokuto, which gives them a special rank among his stuff.

Akaashi spends the rest of the time asking Bokuto questions about the outside world. He's tentative at first, but at Bokuto's encouragement, asks whatever comes to mind. He wants to know which animals are real and which are just fiction. He wants to know about current events, about the development of issues that weren't written in history books yet. He wants to know a little bit about everything, and what he can't write down quickly enough, he commits to memory.

Unfortunately, they are time-constrained, and soon Bokuto says that he has to go. Before he climbs down, however, Akaashi remembers another matter that had been bothering him. 

"Um, Bokuto-san?" he starts, picking at his nails. "Would you be able to bring your own water bottle from now on? It's unfortunate, but I only have a limited amount of water for the week."

It's embarrassing to bring his attention back to his sad state of affairs, but he knows that at this rate, he won't have enough water to last him. Survival over comfort and all. Still, he can't bring himself to meet Bokuto's eyes.

"Jesus, I'm an idiot," Bokuto groans, audibly smacking a hand to his face. "I should've assumed- god, that's so inconsiderate of me. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Akaashi says quickly. "I'm not dying of thirst or anything." He waves a hand towards his food pile in the corner, wishing it was bigger just so Bokuto would stop looking at him like that. 

"Still, just..." Bokuto trails off, his face scrunched up with dissatisfaction. "I'll bring my own water bottle from now on for sure. Do you want me to bring anything for you?"

"No, it's quite ok, but I appreciate the offer. The cards were more than generous." Akaashi feels like he spends half the time thanking Bokuto for something or another, but he can't help it. Every little thing he does is out of the ordinary. 

"If you say so." He still doesn't look satisfied, but at least he's climbing over the window ledge. "See you tomorrow, Akaashi!"

"Yeah, see you."

Akaashi plays twenty games of solitaire that day. It never gets old. He doesn't look back at the spell book Bokuto left, but puts it under his bed before he goes to sleep. He wouldn't want the witch seeing it.

***

The next day, contrary to Akaashi telling him not to get him anything, Bokuto comes with a surprise for him.

"They're meat buns," he explains, pulling them from his pack. "I bought extra at lunch. They're good cold, but even better warm."

Akaashi bites into one right away, wincing at how it burns his mouth. None of the food the witch brings him ever does that, since it's all room temperature.

Bokuto, of course, finds that hilarious. "Blow on it first, then try it. I usually have mine with sauce, but I didn't know whether you'd like it or not, so I just brought them plain."

Akaashi starts to thank him, but Bokuto cuts him off immediately. "Nope, no more thanking. It's a basic human right to get to eat meat buns, so there's nothing to thank."

"But I-"

"Shhhhhhhh, don't talk with your mouth full. If Suga always yells at me for doing it, then I can scold you for it too."

The meat bun does cool down eventually, and it's better than anything Akaashi ever tasted. Much more filling than bread and apples, for sure. He still has three left over by the time he can't eat any more, and he offers them to Bokuto.

"No, I can't take them," he argues. "They were a gift. That would be totally selfish."

"At least one, so I can show my appreciation somehow."

Bokuto acquiesces, eating the whole thing in two bites. Akaashi marvels at how easily he can eat so much food without overthinking it, and saves the other two in a napkin for dinner. 

"Now you wanted to hear about knight training, right? Man, I can't even begin to describe it."

Bokuto talks about his training like a ceremony of worship, like every second is sacred. It's obvious that he's completely dedicated to being one, and every ounce of his will is in his training. He wakes up at five in the morning, and trains all the way until seven at night, but the way he talks about it, he would do it for longer if he could.

"Now I wouldn't say I'm the best at weight lifting in the whole group, but... I am," he brags, flexing an arm, and Akaashi stares at it openly. Probably the size of his leg in diameter, he figures. Maybe he can ask the witch for dumbells when she comes on Sunday, but he has no idea how he would rationalize it. _Yeah, I've decided to really commit myself to a workout routine in case you ever free me._

"It sounds like you really know what you want to do with the rest of your life," Akaashi says sincerely, and Bokuto looks at him like he's the only one who will ever understand him.

"Yeah, right? My parents still want me to work in their forge when I'm done with my 'foolery' in the castle," he says, making air quotes with his hands. "They don't think I have the commitment to spend the rest of my life guarding the castle."

"That's not all knights do though, right?" Akaashi asks, thinking back to his books. Those knights go out into the world, fighting demons and saving damsels. In reality, he's not sure what a real knight does.

"Nah, they also fight in battles and stuff," Bokuto responds, waving a hand in the air. "That's only in wartime, though. For now, it's all patrolling and stuff. Still, I like the work that I do, so why would I want to be cooped up in a forge all day?"

He realizes too late who he's talking to, but Akaashi waves away his concern. "No, I understand. When you have a passion, you just want to go for it." At least, that's what he imagines. He'll have to get a passion first in order to really get it.

***

The rest of the week passes like a dream. Bokuto comes around the same time every day, always with a new trinket or food item from the market. A bookmark, a key chain, anything he thinks Akaashi will like. Akaashi always tries to get him to take it back, saying that he shouldn't spend money on him, but Bokuto is stubborn as a bull.

"It's just your human right to get nice things once in a while," he always says, and Akaashi makes sure to thank him many times over before he leaves. He starts to run out of room to hide all of these treasures, but he finds a loose stone beside his bed and stores them there. If the witch discovers them, he can always say that a crow started bringing him gifts. The truth is much less believable.

  
After the initial surprise, Bokuto always has stories to say about his training, or something he and his friends did after. Akaashi slowly forms a picture of each of them in his mind.

Kuroo, tall and dark haired with a sarcastic sense of humor. Bokuto's best friend out of all of them.

Kenma, short and with bleached hair, who is quiet enough to blend into the background (not that Kuroo lets him).

Suga, short for Sugawara, who is sweet but can turn grumpy at a moment's notice.

Tsukishima, blond and sour, but who can be nice on occasions. Very rare occasions.

Lev, the tall newbie, who trips over his horse at least once a day.

Hinata, short and redheaded, who fights harder than everyone else despite his height.

In Akaashi's mind, they are all story characters, but to Bokuto, they obviously mean a lot. Occasionally Akaashi grows envious, but most of the time he's just happy that Bokuto had more people outside to talk to. He has enough personality to overwhelm a person, and it has to be spread out among several. 

Once in a while, Akaashi gets him to talk about the prince, but his face screws up every time. 

"He's an ass, plain and simple," he said the first time. "Flirts with everyone, thinks that he's hot stuff. We just have to pretend to tolerate him when he comes by every so often."

"And Oikawa also trains like you guys?"

"He trains even more than we do. He's hard on us, but hardest on himself. His overall perfection just pisses me off." 

Bokuto always asks about Akaashi's day, despite him saying numerous times that nothing really happens. Bokuto is just as excited to hear that a leaf was blown into the room as Akaashi is to hear about his many feats of strength. It's discomforting at first, but he grows to enjoy how Bokuto is genuinely interested in what he does, no matter how mundane. He can make the most boring day seem like a gift.

Eventually, however, Saturday does have to come, and with it the looming threat of the witch.

"She comes every Sunday night, but she could come at any time tomorrow," Akaashi explains, pulling his knees to his chest. "If she saw you here, it would be disastrous for both of us."

"I don't want to get you in trouble, but will you be alright by yourself tomorrow?" Bokuto asks, eyebrows drawn together. Akaashi has to fight not to let a hysterical laugh escape. 

"Of course. I've been managing for seventeen years."

  
Despite his confidence in front of Bokuto, that Sunday is probably the slowest day he's ever experienced. He catches himself staring out the window one too many times until he blocks it with a torn up sack, sparing him the sight of empty trees upon trees.

He fiddles with his key chain, an owl that Bokuto had said looked like him, which makes it the perfect keepsake. Bokuto's hair does remind him of a horned owl, but he never mentioned it before because he thought it might be insulting. Nope, apparently he does it on purpose. Akaashi doesn't understand it, but to each their own, he supposes. 

At some point he starts to long for the witch to appear. The sooner she comes, the sooner the day will be over, and then Bokuto can come back again. He checks around the room again, making sure his souvenirs are properly hidden and all outside food is eaten.

He has more food left over than he usually does, so he throws a loaf of bread and a couple of apples out the window, watching the birds come to take them away. Wasting food is usually sacrilege to him, but it's more dangerous if the witch thinks he's starving himself. She threatened to make a portal to his stomach and throw food into it. He wasn't sure he would survive it if she actually went through with it.

When she finally does appear, he almost breaks into a grin. She has customers with her, of course, and he tends to them quickly, not paying them much mind. They thank him, and he sends them a quick smile, something he's grown more comfortable with in the past week. 

"What're you smiling about?" the witch asks, and Akaashi's grin drops as soon as it appeared. Right, he's not supposed to have anything that makes him happy. Too suspicious.

He waits for her to leave before falling onto his bed, craning his head over to look out the window. His doorway to a different world, one of knights and adventure and card games and laughter. 

***

Bokuto stops by the next day, same time as always, and looks relieved that Akaashi is still alive.

"I thought she could sense that I was here or something," he said sheepishly, and Akaashi snorted.

"Her magic specializes in teleportation and forgetfulness spells. You should be fine, unless you already forgot that she attacked you."

"Is that possible?"

"You're too much, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto shows him a bag of multicolored chips that he brought, and Akaashi's confused until he teaches him how to play poker. They can't play properly, Bokuto laments, since there are only two of them, but Akaashi doesn't mind. Besides, he thinks that it's his best card game yet. 

"How can you keep your face so still?" Bokuto complains, handing over his small stack of chips. Akaashi's poker face is a small pride to him, from years of keeping neutral in front of the witch, and he's glad it finally has a use. Bokuto, on the contrary, can't control his emotions to save his life. It's equally hilarious and endearing.

They talk afterwards, as they always do, and Akaashi finally asks, "What do you tell your friends every day when you come to see me?"

Bokuto's face goes red, full on scarlet, and he mutters, "They think I'm courting someone."

"Is that what you told them?" Akaashi isn't sure how he's feeling about this, but he's more curious about Bokuto's emotions towards the whole situation. He's never seen him blush so dark before.

"No, of course not! I told them I'm visiting someone in the town over, and they made the inference themselves." Bokuto's face is still red, but he's at least able to meet Akaashi's eyes, which is a good sign.

"I'm not... insulted or anything, if that's what you're worried about," he says, trying to decipher his expression. Definitely embarrassed, but over what? Bokuto is definitely good looking enough to be courting someone, so it isn't a ridiculous assumption to make. 

"No, not that. Just- never mind."

"What?"

"It's nothing. Now back to talking about that new book you read today!"

It's the least subtle subject change Akaashi's ever heard, but he allows it, since obviously whatever it is really bothers Bokuto. He's never seen him so worked up before.

He goes back to talking about what he read that day, and Bokuto listens, even though he admits he doesn't read himself. He says that Akaashi makes books sound more interesting than they actually are, and Akaashi takes it as a compliment, instead of as an insult to his beloved authors.

"Bye, Akaashi!" Bokuto calls from the ground when it's time to leave. 

"Goodbye, Bokuto-san," he calls back, finally loud enough to be heard from his tower. "Tell your friends that your paramour says hello."

Bokuto says something after that, but it's completely unintelligible. Akaashi chooses not to overthink it.

  
One week passes, then another, and then another. Akaashi assumes that eventually Bokuto will get tired of coming by once a day, but he never does. He climbs up with the same enthusiasm as he did the first day (although he's less out of breath each time, growing used to the long ascent).

He brings a few new games with him, like dice and pick up sticks, but poker remains Akaashi's favorite. He always leaves them behind with Akaashi, saying that he can use them if he ever gets bored, but it's been a while since Akaashi was bored. Bokuto's excitement carries over long after he slides down the side of the tower.

Akaashi can't remember the last time he was hungry, or bored, or thought about letting himself rot into nothing. Bokuto tinted everything around him to a rosy color, and he couldn't revert it back if he tried.

"You need a haircut," the witch observes on that third Sunday, and a pair of scissors appears in her hands. Akaashi never cared about his appearance before, but suddenly the thought of her chopping off all of his hair - carelessly, for utility rather than style - turns his stomach.

"I think my hair is alright as it is," he says quickly, pulling a strand out to look at. "I keep it clean."

"Why, does your head get cold or something?" she asks, and Akaashi shrugs. He can't say the real reason, which is that Bokuto had complimented his hair the way it is.

Earlier that week, after talking for a while about how Bokuto keeps his hair so stiff and pointy (lots and lots of hair wax), Bokuto had said out of nowhere, "Man, I'm so jealous. You can pull off longer hair, 'Kaashi. It looks nice on you." His face turned pinkish when he said it, but he didn't break eye contact. 

Akaashi had been so startled that he didn't respond, but he stared at his reflection in a tub of water for at least five minutes that night, curling his hair around his fingers. There was no way he was allowing the witch anywhere near his head.

"Whatever," she now said, snapping them away. "As long as it doesn't interfere with-"

"-You making money, yes," Akaashi finished, pursing his lips.

"Precisely. And since when do you talk?"

 _Since about a month ago, not that it's any of your business._ Akaashi now knows what it's like to be treated properly by someone. It's getting harder and harder to pretend he doesn't.

"Here's your food, yadda yadda yadda, see you next week." 

He waited until he knew she was gone before saying, "I hope I don't." The words echo around the small, stone room, bouncing back into his ears many times over. "I don't rely on you anymore. I don't need you."

He reached under his bed for the first time in a month, pulling out the spell book that Bokuto had brought him that fateful second day. Apparently he had "borrowed" it from the prince's library, and he wouldn't even notice it was gone, so he never asked for it back.

Akaashi all but forgot about it, but now it calls to him, asking him just to take a peek inside. He obliges, since he's a sucker for books, even ones that definitely won't work, can't work.

He stays awake much later than usual, reading by the faint moonlight streaming through the window. He reads about teleportation spells for objects, animals, humans. Things already under spells, and cursed items that repel spells. He pores over diagrams of how to set up your own portal, annotates recipes for their annulment.

And when he feels like his eyes can't possibly stay open any longer, he places a bookmark inside and carefully shuts it, shoving it back under his bed with a tired heave. There's no way he could do it, even if he did have all of the ingredients, but it was interesting reading material. Just some light reading, nothing too serious. Nothing to be taken seriously at all.

When Akaashi wakes up the next morning, Bokuto's already in the room, dropping off a bag of something in the corner.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and Bokuto jumps a foot in the air.

"I came like a minute ago, I swear," he says, putting his hands up. "You looked tired, so I was gonna drop this off and let you sleep. They're takoyaki." 

Akaashi's still not fully awake, but he rolls out of bed, washing his face quickly in a tub of water. His hair's a mess, that much he can tell, but he doesn't have time to grapple with it today.

"It's alright, I'm awake. I'm just going to get dressed, so if you could..."

"Yeah, no, for sure!" 

Akaashi changes quickly while Bokuto stands by a wall, covering his eyes. He taps him on the shoulder when he's done, picking up the bag of takoyaki. It's the best smell he's ever woken up to.

"Sorry I overslept, I was up reading about..." He can't say that he was looking through the spell book. He can't give Boktuo any sort of false hope, that would be too cruel. "...owls."

"Oh, they're my favorite animals! Did you find out anything interesting about them?"

Lucky enough, Akaashi had read a book about owls recently enough, so he fires off a couple of facts about them from the top of his head. 

"...and they mate for life," he finishes, holding back a sigh of relief. He didn't like lying to Bokuto, but if it has to be done, he's glad he can at least do a pretty good job of it.

"I've been trying to convince Daichi for _months_ to get Oikawa to train owls, but nooooo, apparently they aren't obedient enough. That's why they only use falcons for hunting." Bokuto looks genuinely disappointed that he doesn't have a pet owl, and it's cute that he wants an apex predator as a pet so badly.

"If you could get an owl, what would you name it?" Akaashi can imagine him taking one home, putting a hat on it, and naming it something tough. Like Reaper, or Destroyer, or Menace.

"Hmmmm. Maybe Yakiniku, after my favorite food," he answers, laying on the floor. "Kuroo would probably say that's the dumbest thing ever, though."

"I'd agree with him," Akaashi chuckles.

"Maybe I'd name it after you," he says thoughtfully, and Akaashi's laughter dies in his throat. "I'd call it Keiji, or Akaashi-kun, since you always use honorifics with me. What do you think?"

Akaashi doesn't know what he thinks. A warm feeling is spreading through his chest, like when he ate the meat bun too quickly, but better. It spreads all the way to his fingertips, down to his stomach, filling him up with a sense of... contentment is the best way he can describe it.

"I... it's a nice idea," he says weakly, and Bokuto moves on to talk about how the lady at the market wanted to charge more for the takoyaki but he bargained with her until she dropped it down to normal. Akaashi waits for his heart rate to settle before he dares to try speaking again.

They finish the food between them, and Bokuto reaches behind him to grab the ball. A volleyball, if Akaashi remembers correctly from the first time Bokuto stopped by. 

"Do you know anything about the game?" he asks, and Akaashi nods. He's read about volleyball before, even if he didn't make the connection to his own ball. "Good. I mean, we can't actually have a match, but we could practice passing. Only if you want, of course."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he replies, and they spend the rest of their limited time together bumping the ball to each other. Akaashi is completely new to it, and half of his passes miss Bokuto completely, but he's nothing if not patient.

"You're a lot better at setting than I am," he observes, shooting him a grin. "Definitely a setter, if you actually played." 

Akaashi chooses to focus on the fact that he's good at setting rather than the implied _it's a shame you'll never get to actually play._ "Makes up for my awful receives, hopefully."

"Ah, don't be so hard on yourself. I was awful too until I practiced a billion times. We play on the weekends sometimes, me and the rest of the knights. It helps pass the time when we're not training."

Once he leaves, riding off into the forest, Akaashi throws away his old list and writes a new list of books for the witch to bring him.

"What, you're suddenly a romance genre person?" she asks when she gets it on Sunday.

"What's it to you?" he snaps, because her presence is really starting to grate on him.

"Touchy touchy. I'll bring you your damn books. Just don't get any ideas. No fancy prince is going to rescue you from here."

 _It's too late,_ he thinks. _I'm already being saved._

***

Spring turns to summer, which normally wouldn't affect him as much, except Bokuto now comes for longer. 

"Summer break, baby!" he shouts one day, rolling over the ledge. "No more training until September."

"I thought you love training," Akaashi says confused. 

"Yeah, I do, but I need a break sometimes, ya know?" Akaashi doesn't know, his whole life being one long break, but he nods anyway. "Besides, that means I can stay longer, since I don't need to run back."

"Good enough for me."

Summer is officially Akaashi's favorite season. The weather is nice, the air feels cleaner, and Bokuto stays for hours. He comes around the same time, early afternoon, but leaves when the sun is just beginning its descent. 

They do most of the same stuff. Occasionally they'll both do their own thing, Akaashi reading his book while Bokuto tinkers with whatever work he brings from the forge. Sometimes Akaashi reads out loud for both of them, and Bokuto sits beside him, shoulders barely brushing.

And they do a _lot_ of talking. Hopes and dreams, favorite _everything._ Akaashi talks himself out quickly, but can listen to Bokuto talk for as long as he feels up to it. He falls asleep once or twice, waking up on Bokuto's shoulder, but he never seems to mind much. It brings that warm feeling back, the all encompassing warmth that makes Akaashi forget everything but the feeling of Bokuto's shoulder under his head.

Rain or shine, Bokuto appears at his window. Literally, Akaashi notes, as he helps Bokuto towel off his now limp and wet hair.

"It's a thunderstorm, Bokuto-san, you could've been killed," he chides, trying and failing to keep his voice stern. Affection keeps leaking through.

"I know, but it didn't seem so bad when I left the house, and when it started pouring I was already halfway through so-"

"You're forgiven," Akaashi cuts him off, throwing the towel into the laundry pile. "You can't ride back in this weather, though. Wait until the thunder stops, at least."

But the thunder continues to rumble throughout the day, the endless rain making Akaashi forget what sunshine looks like. As the hours drag on, he starts preparing himself for the fact that Bokuto might have to spend the night. Not that he minds, of course.

"I would lend you a shirt, but it definitely wouldn't fit," Akaashi says, already in his sleep clothes. There's no way he's bathing tonight, not with Bokuto in the same room. He'd die first.

"That's alright, I usually sleep shirtless anyway," Bokuto says, peeling off his shirt, and it's all Akaashi can do not to look.

Ok, he looks. Bokuto's chest is just as muscular as he imagined. Not that he spent a lot of time imagining. Just- ugh, his mind can't even begin to process what's going on.

Then come the sleeping arrangements, which is an issue in itself. 

"I sleep on the floor sometimes when it's really hot out," Akaashi says, laying himself out beside the mattress. "I'll sleep perfectly fine here."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is your house- or tower, I guess. I'm a guest, I'll sleep on the floor," Bokuto argues, sitting on the other side of the mattress.

"You're not used to it, you won't be able to sleep-"

"I'm the one imposing, I can handle it-"

Somehow, they both end up on the mattress, sharing a space that fits one person semi-comfortably, and two people not at all. It's a warm night already, but with Bokuto there, Akaashi feels like he's burning up. Every time his hand accidentally brushes his arm, it sends a new wave of heat through him.

"Are you sure you're comfortable?" Bokuto whispers, and Akaashi nods. He's comfortable, all right. _Too_ comfortable, even. 

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"I dunno. It looks like you're about to fall off the mattress."

Akaashi _is_ precariously balanced on the edge of the mattress, but that's neither here nor there. He had assumed that both of them would not mention it, but apparently he was the only one cued into that agreement.

As slowly as he can, he moves closer inward, closer to Bokuto, until they are pressed against each other. Akaashi can _feel_ every shift in Bokuto's body, every slight breath he takes. There is no way he can sleep through this sensory overload.

"Goodnight, Akaashi," he says, rolling over so his back faces him. Akaashi lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding once his face is out of view.

"Goodnight, Bokuto-san."

Somehow, magically, Akaashi does fall asleep that night, after what feels like hours and hours of staring at Bokuto's back. He was asleep in minutes, of course, because he doesn't have a care in the world. Akaashi's life is nothing but cares, and the most immediate one is _sleeping right beside him what the actual hell._

When he wakes up in the morning, he's groggy and disoriented, and his first thought is _I'll deal with this when I'm more awake_. What _this_ is, he doesn't know, but he shuts his eyes and lets himself be carried back into dreamland.

The second time he wakes up, it's immediately clear what _this_ is. _This_ is two giant arms wrapped around his back, and _this_ is Akaashi's face pressed to Bokuto's neck, and _this_ is how fast Akaashi's heart is beating, which Bokuto can definitely feel given they're _right against each other_.

Akaashi is a rational thinker, and he doesn't lose his cool in tough situations. So the way he sees it, he has three options.

1\. Untangle himself, go back to sleep, and pretend none of it ever happened.

2\. Wake Bokuto up and talk about his feelings because they are threatening to tear his chest apart.

3\. Go back to sleep the way he is, and let Bokuto deal with it when he wakes up.

He's heavily leaning towards three, definitely the easiest option, when he feels Bokuto stirring. He jerks back, making a complete 180 to get to option one, but it's too late. He can feel Bokuto's eyes burning into the top of his head, and when he looks up, he's sure his face is the same shade of red as Bokuto's.

"Good morning," he says wearily, at the same time that Bokuto begins to ramble, "God, I am so sorry. I'm a sleep cuddler, I should've warned you before. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm so sorry about everything."

"It's alright," Akaashi says to all of his apologies. "Couldn't be helped, right? Consider it water under the bridge."

Bokuto nods, and the two of them are silent as he gets dressed and gathers his things. 

"See you," he says, heading out, and Akaashi waves, not trusting himself to speak. He hopes the awkwardness will be gone by the time he comes back.

But Bokuto doesn't come back. Not that day, not the next. Akaashi spends more time than he'll admit reading over those cheesy romance stories he asked the witch to bring. None of them give him any advice, although they do help soothe the pain. He reads the spell book again, although it's half-hearted at best. He can't bring himself to do much of anything.

And then it's Sunday, and the witch comes at her usual time. Except instead of bringing one or two people, she comes with a whole crowd of them.

"God, it's exhausting to transport so many," she pants, grabbing a bottle of water from Akaashi's bag. He pretends not to notice, not feeling up for an argument. "Well? What are you waiting for? Start healing them."

"Why are there so many?" he asks, tending to the first one. He's covered in blood from his hand all the way down his arm, and it seems three of his fingers have been chopped off. Akaashi feels queasy, not used to dealing with such graphic wounds, but he does his job just as effectively as always.

"Wartime," the witch explains. "The kingdom is in battle, so you're going to have a lot more of these to deal with. They're getting chopped to smithereens." Her casual tone of voice makes Akaashi queasier than any amount of blood. 

"That's awful," he mutters, healing the second person, then the third and fourth without even looking up.

"Yeah, what can you do? I'm going to bring the next set of people. Behave while I'm gone." She snaps away, and a weight Akaashi didn't know existed fell off of him.

"Alright people, orderly line. I'm here to help-" His voice catches in his throat when he sees the next person. Blood matted bangs are stuck to his forehead, and his eyes are anything but cocky, but somehow Akaashi recognizes him anyway. _Kuroo._

"You're Bokuto-san's friend, right?" he asks, skipping any introductions. He's sure it's him, as sure as he is about anything. The guy hesitates, then nods.

"How do you know him?"

"Not important. Do you know where he is?" Akaashi doesn't know how much time he has until the witch gets back, and there's no way she won't find their conversation suspicious. How would he know who Bokuto is in the first place? He doesn't have the time to make small talk.

The guy hesitates again, and Akaashi taps his foot impatiently. "Look, I don't know how you know him, but he's in critical condition. Got stabbed right through the ribs. I told him I would foot the fee for him to come here too, but the witch said he'd die on the way anyway. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

Kuroo truly does look sorry, which only makes Akaashi's chest hurt more. He feels like he's going to have a panic attack, but Kuroo being there grounds him. _I have to get there before it's too late_.

He dashes to his bed, yanking the spell book from its hiding place. He flips through as quickly as he can, finding the spell for cancelling portals. It doesn't take a lot of supplies, but he'll need power, as much as he can, and concentration. And he couldn't have either with all of these people around him.

Akaashi spins around to see them, eyes as hard as stone. "Listen up! I'm going to heal all of you quickly, but after that you all have to be quiet. I'm getting out of here. The witch will come and bring you guys back home, but I need you to not tell her where I am, ok? This is essential. There is a life on the line." 

He turns to Kuroo, who's looking more and more confused. "How do you get from here to the castle?" he asks, practically pleading.

"Um, I've never gone this way before. I was just teleported here, remember?" He thinks for a minute, then something dawns on him. "Wait, _you're_ Bokuto's secret lover?"

"Does that matter right now?" Akaashi is almost hysterical.

"Not really, but I know which direction he goes to here then." He points out the window, tracing a path with his finger. "You'll make it there, but I don't know how quickly."

"Thank you," Akaashi says breathlessly. "Truly."

"I just hope you make it in time."

Doing one type of magic when you've done another your whole life is difficult, to say the least. Akaashi's glad he took the time to annotate, because in the heat of the moment, his vision's blurring. 

"So I just need to make a circle of blood and repeat these words," he mumbles to himself, reading it over. "That'll cancel the portal. But where will I get the blood from?" He looks over at Kuroo's belt, spotting the sword on it, and a sick idea comes to mind.

"Dude, I don't know what you're thinking about, but whatever it is, don't," Kuroo says, following his gaze. "Killing yourself won't solve it."

"I'll heal quickly," Akaashi argues, grabbing for the sword. Kuroo quickly yanks it out of reach. 

"But will it be quickly enough? Look, instead of trying to cancel that portal, why don't you just teleport from here? Seems like a lot less work." From the little Kuroo is filled in on, he somehow already has a better idea than months of Akaashi thinking it over. He supposes this is why Bokuto likes him best.

"That's... smart." He turns back a few pages to the teleportation spells, and sure enough, they don't require any blood. Just lots and lots of power and practice, neither of which Akaashi has. But what he does have is sheer willpower, which might make up for both of them. 

" _Ut hic de mecum,_ " he whispers, but it doesn't do anything. He repeats it louder. " _Ut hic de mecum!"_

"Do you have the castle in mind?" Kuroo whispers, not wanting to break his concentration, and Akaashi tries again, this time envisioning the castle. He has a vague picture of it from the way Bokuto talks about it, but he attempts to bring every little detail to mind. The falconry, the weights room, the archery field, the stables, the bunks, _everything._

Then, when he's sure he's remembered everything there is to remember, he tries one last time. " _Ut hic de mecum!"_

Teleporting is... nauseating. That is his first thought as he appears in the middle of the falconry, disoriented at best and stomach-turningly nauseous and exhausting at worst. He's a little upset that he didn't have the time to thank Kuroo, but there are more important things to attend to. Besides, he won't remember it anyway tomorrow.

"Hello? Is anyone around?" he shouts, running out of the room. He doesn't know where he's going, but hopefully somewhere with people. "Hello?"

"Yes, who are you?" he hears a voice behind him say, and he turns to find a short redhead. _Hinata._

"Yes, hello, I'm looking for Bokuto-san," Akaashi wheezes. "Do you know where I can find him?"

"He's in the infirmary. Who are you, though?" Hinata repeats, eyes squinted into slits. 

Akaashi has to think fast. "I'm his fiance. We've been meeting for the past couple of months, maybe you've heard? I want to see how he's doing."

Hinata's eyes widen, both with understanding and grief, and he takes him by the arm. "Follow me. He's stable, but we're not sure how long that'll last."

They beeline to the infirmary, where people are streaming in and out like worker bees at a hive. Akaashi follows Hinata blindly, weaving between frazzled nurses and injured knights. He tries to heal as many of them as he can, but his main focus is on the redhead in front of him.

Finally, they stop at a bed in the corner, and Akaashi's heart drops. There's Bokuto, although he's hardly recognizable in this state. He has bandages wrapped around his midriff, bandages around his head. More bandages than open skin, in fact. Hinata excuses himself so they can be alone, but Akaashi hardly notices him leave.

"Bokuto-san," he whispers, choking on the words. He feels for a pulse, finding a faint one in his neck. It isn't much, but it's enough.

Except when he tries to heal him, he finds that nothing happens. He's spent, from all the energy of healing the patients, teleporting, and the adrenaline he used up getting there.

"No," he mutters, shutting his eyes tight. "No! I can heal you! It's all I'm good for!" He knows he's shouting, he knows he's weeping, but the outside world doesn't exist. It's just him, the failure, and Bokuto, frailer than ever before. If Akaashi can't heal him now, what's the point of him having left the tower? What's the point of him surviving any of this? If he just healed one less patient, just one, he'd be worth something.

But no, he was now a failure to the one person who's opinion he actually cared about. The one person who ever truly cared about _him._

He buries his head in his chest, careful to avoid any of bandaged areas, and allows himself to cry openly for the first time in years. He's _useless,_ he's _useless,_ he's _useless._ He deserves to be in that bed, not Bokuto. He'd give up his life in an instant for him to be back to normal.

At some point, a nurse approaches him, trying to lead him away from his body. 

"He needs his rest," she says gently, but Akaashi hangs on to the bed frame.

"No, he needs me," he sniffs, staring down at the unconscious boy. "He needs me to be here for him, even if I'm worthless." The nurse doesn't ask him to move again, but hands him a glass of water, which he downs in a single gulp. He can't remember the last time he ate or drank anything.

He probably stays next to Bokuto for three hours, but it feels like another lifetime. A new replacing the old, grief replacing what was bright. He can't believe that just a few days ago, his greatest concern was how to react to sharing a bed with Bokuto. This feels like a whole new plane of existence.

Finally, when he feels himself nodding off, he allows a nurse to lead him to a separate room to rest. There aren't any beds available, too many injured to count, but he sleeps just fine in a metal chair. He's got nothing left keeping him awake. He's spent.

***

When Akaashi opens his eyes, he feels slightly better, but also infinitely worse. He didn't know how tired he had been until now, and his limbs are still weary from the events of the day before. He can't even bring himself to think about his powers, which are definitely all used up. He was always careful not to overwork himself, and now look at him. Come one, come all, and see the sad sad situation sleeping in the infirmary. He's not injured in the body, but in the soul.

He doesn't know where he gets the energy, but somehow he brings himself to the next room, where he knows Bokuto is laying. Or at least, he hopes. If he enters the room and finds his bed empty, or someone else within it, he doesn't know what he'll do. Probably fade into dust on the spot. Bokuto's life is tied to his own, so if he dies, Akaashi dies.

But no, Bokuto is still there, still in the same position as the day before. His chest is still rising and falling, however faintly, and Akaashi feels the air enter back into his lungs. He assumes his seat beside his bed, staring down at his hands. 

"Bokuto-san, I failed you," he whispers. "I never told you I had powers, I never told you the truth about the witch. I never told you how much you mean to me." He feels the tears start building in his eyes, and he angrily wipes them away. "You shouldn't stay alive for my sake, because I don't deserve you, but for everyone else's sake. I met a few of your friends, and it's obvious they all care deeply about you. I wish I was able to show you I feel the same way, but I have _nothing to give._ "

He wipes his face again, letting the scratchy material of his shirt smudge his tears over his face. When he leaves - he can't think about Bokuto dying, it'll kill him, but when he leaves - he'll turn himself in to the witch. She'll probably kill him herself, since he's a witness to all of her evil deeds, but Akaashi will finally get what he deserves. He thought those years of being trapped in the tower was punishment enough, but he was wrong. He deserves so much worse. 

"'Kaashi, don't be so hard on yourself." Akaashi's head snaps up, and he turns slowly to face Bokuto. He doesn't believe Bokuto even spoke until he opens his eyes, squinting at the light. "Haven't I ever told you you're the perfect human being?" 

Akaashi gapes at him for a full second, then buries his face back in Bokuto's chest, tears streaming like a faucet.

"I thought you were dying," he gasps, scrubbing at his eyes. "You were out for so long, and-"

"I thought I was gonna die too," Bokuto replies, weakly patting Akaashi's head. "But I heard you, and I felt a tiny spark of life go into me. I know you saved me, Akaashi."

"I didn't do enough," he whispers, gripping the bed sheets. "I have healing powers - or at least, I used to - but I couldn't do anything more than barely keep you alive. Hell, I could barely manage that. I'm not good enough for you."

"'Kaashi, look at me." He pushes Akaashi's chin up gently, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You saved my life. You broke out of your dumb tower and made it all the way here to try and save me, and you did! You're more of a hero than I am."

"Don't say that. I could've saved you if I wasn't so frivolous-"

"But you did save me. I'm right here, Keiji."

Akaashi stares at him for a minute, at the beautiful boy in front of him, and leans his head in, kissing his forehead softly. Then he feels Bokuto's hand on his face, guiding him downward, and they're kissing properly, as light and sweet as rainwater. Akaashi can't help but open his eyes a few times, just to affirm that it's real. 

"If it took almost dying for that to happen, then it was worth it," Bokuto sighs happily, playing with a loose curl on Akaashi's head. 

"Don't even joke about that, Bokuto-san. You worried me half to death." He's joking, sort of, even if the dried tears on his face say otherwise. 

"Right, I apologize." He grins cheekily, kissing him at the corner of his mouth. "You forgive me, right?"

"Of course. As long as you never do it again."

"Believe me, I'll try my hardest." His face takes on a new expression, more thoughtful. "So you had healing powers this whole time. And that's why the witch kept you in that tower." He says it more as a statement than a question.

"Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. At this point, they're completely spent, though. I can't feel my power at all." 

"Huh." He considers this for a moment. "So there's nothing tying you back to the tower anymore? No reason the witch should pursue you?"

"I suppose not. But it'll take a lot more than one witch to take me away from you."

"Good, because you're never leaving my side again. If I have to tie us together, I will."

"My thoughts exactly." Akaashi's face flushes, and he adds, "I may have told one of your friends that we were engaged so I could get here."

"That's so sneaky! I love it," Bokuto laughs, clutching a hand to his abdomen. "Maybe we could make that true once I get out of here."

"...yeah, maybe we could."

Akaashi Keiji may be spent, useless, and powerless, but he's also happier than he's ever been in his life. And really, that's all there is to it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, leave a comment and I'll name my first child after it
> 
> tumblr: laurenshappenstobemyhusband


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